


Peace and Quiet

by magickalmolly



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 10:16:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9230504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magickalmolly/pseuds/magickalmolly
Summary: Merry had come to Bag End to find a little peace and escape the noise and bustle of Buckland.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Shire Date is 1405. Frodo is 34 Merry is 20 (Bilbo has been gone 1 year). Originally written April 1, 2005.

It was simply too quiet. 

Now, Merry had left home just for that reason – to find a little peace, and escape the noise and bustle of Buckland. Especially at this time of year, when all of Brandy Hall was in an uproar with spring cleaning. His own mother was leading the endeavour, and when Esmeralda Brandybuck decided she wanted something done, it was done and done right. But between the emptying of the cellars and the repairing of the shutters and the scrubbing of the fireplaces, Merry hadn't been able to find a moment to himself.

For a young lad having recently entered his 'tweens, time alone was a precious thing.

The only thing to be done for it, Merry realized, was to get away from Brandy Hall all together. At least for a little while. So Merry decided to leave home one bright morning, his destination being Bag End.

Already wearing a pack on his back, Merry kissed his mother's cheek in farewell, giving her his most charming smile as he did. Esmeralda had arched a suspicious eyebrow at him, but Merry cut off her argument before it began, years of practice having made him quick. He insisted he simply must visit dear cousin Frodo, to see how the poor reclusive hobbit was getting on now that old Bilbo was gone. He finished his concerned tale with a solemn nod. 

Esmeralda's smile had been knowing, but indulgent, and she let Merry go, telling him only not to bring any more books home as the library had been reorganized that morning. Merry had crossed his heart and waved goodbye as he marched out the front gate. 

Frodo was thrilled when he found the young Brandybuck on his doorstep, and, excited to have a houseguest, promised Merry he would be entertained in true Baggins style. True Baggins style, of course, meant quite a lot of eating, and reading, with good doses of napping fit in between. Merry was just fine with that. 

Merry and Frodo took afternoon tea outside in the garden, and, if Sam was around, they would insist he stop his work long enough to join them. More often than not Sam could be talked into it, and the three of them would laugh and eat their way through until it was time for dinner. Once inside, Sam would help with the cooking, then be on his way to his own home, leaving the two cousins to dine together, sharing stories and swapping gossip about all that was going on throughout the Shire. 

And on warm nights, far after supper and dessert, Merry and Frodo would retire to atop Bag End itself, Frodo with his pipe and the both of them with mugs of cider or hot tea. Frodo would sit with Merry's head in his lap, telling his young cousin all about the movement of the stars, pointing out the various constellations as the both of them gazed up into the inky darkness. The sound of Frodo's voice and the touch of his hand in Merry's fair curls would pull Merry towards sleep, every time. When Frodo could see that Merry couldn't keep his eyes open and longer, he would laugh about boring his poor cousin, and shuffle Merry off to bed, making for his own soon after. 

Merry quickly began to enjoy his time so much he thought he might stay the summer. Or, at least until spring cleaning was finished back home. There certainly was no spring cleaning taking place at Bag End. No, it was wide and empty and blissfully quiet.

But this particular afternoon found Merry with absolutely nothing to do, and Frodo suspiciously absent. After having wakened from a post-elevenses nap, Merry went in search of his cousin, but couldn't find him in any of his usual spots. He was not in his study, nor in his bedroom. He wasn't even in the kitchen, pretending to sip his tea as he watched Sam trim the hedges through the kitchen window. 

Not knowing what else to do, Merry wandered down one of the many hallways, letting his feet lead him where they may. It wasn't long before he found himself at the doorway to Bilbo's bedroom. The room hadn't been used since old Bilbo left, but Frodo insisted on keeping it just as it was, in hopes the gentlehobbit might someday return. Merry thought it a sweet idea, and felt sorry for Frodo to lose the only close relative he had, save perhaps for Merry himself. 

The door was usually closed, as Sam maintained it kept out the dust, and so Merry was surprised to see it had been left open a bit. It was the sight of the light from the room spilling into the hall that caught Merry's attention in the first place. And now, with his curiosity piqued, Merry couldn't help but to peek inside. 

Using his quietest hobbit steps, Merry moved closer, and pressed one hand to the doorframe as he peered in, looking about. Nothing seemed to be different from the last time he'd seen the room. There was Bilbo's desk, neater than usual, if not still stacked high with papers, quills and books. The shutters were opened on the round windows, which explained the light. And directly across from the door sat Bilbo's bed, covered with plump feather pillows, a heavy knitted blanket... and Frodo.

At first glance, Frodo appeared to be asleep. He was curled on his side with his knees drawn up, his face hidden by his shoulder. An open book lay on the blanket next to him. 

Merry smiled softly at the sight; Frodo must miss old Bilbo more than he let on. Deciding to leave Frodo to his memories, Merry was about to tip toe away when Frodo stirred. He made a low humming sound, and Merry paused, his fair brows furrowing slightly at the noise. Was Frodo dreaming? Merry listened more closely, curious to hear if Frodo would make the sound again. 

Almost as if on cue, Frodo did jus that, slightly longer and louder this time. Deeper as well, which caused Merry's furrowed brows to rise up towards his hairline. Something about the sound made heat prickle at the back of Merry's neck. It was certainly not a noise he'd heard from his cousin before. It didn't seem as if Frodo were in any discomfort. In fact, the noise sounded almost like a sound of, well, _pleasure_.

And that's when Merry became aware of the location of Frodo's hand. It was tucked far inside his breeches. The breeches that Merry had failed to notice were unbuttoned. Frodo's arm was moving, just a little bit, but tugging in time to the slowly increasing rhythm of his breathing, and it wasn't long before his hips were moving as well, rocking back and forth.

Merry realized then just what it was Frodo was doing, and his eyes widened in surprise. 

A little voice in Merry's head told him to leave. To walk back up the hallway and allow his cousin some privacy. It scolded him for lingering at all. But Merry couldn’t make his feet move or his eyes turn away, and he stayed where he was, firmly rooted in place. He'd honestly never seen anyone do, well... _that_ before, and Merry's curiosity was stronger than the little voice. 

Not knowing he had an audience, Frodo rolled over onto his back with a slow, indulgent stretch, and the smooth flesh of his upper body was revealed as his unbuttoned shirt fell open. Merry blinked once, and he gaped unabashedly. In the afternoon light, Frodo's skin was almost luminous, and the twin smudges of dark rose that were his nipples stood out in dark contrast. Merry could see soft dark hair leading down the lower half of Frodo's belly, right above where Frodo's hand was moving with slow, even strokes. 

This was... oh dear. Mercy. _Yes,_ Merry thought to himself, _I should go._ Yet Merry gripped at the doorway with the both of his hands instead, and leaned in a little further, his body unwilling to move from his spot. So enthralled with the sight before him, Merry was unaware of everything else, even his own arousal, already hard and tight against the front of his breeches.

Pressing his dark curls into the pillows beneath him, Frodo sighed, then twisted his wrist as he stroked himself, which caused him to let loose a rather loud moan. At the sound, Merry jumped a little, and couldn’t help but to glance over his shoulder, his cheeks flaming. He worried that someone else might hear Frodo and come to see what the noise was about. 

But there was no one here at Bag End but Frodo and himself. 

Well, there was Sam, but he was outside in the garden, far away from Bilbo's room. Merry realized then why it was Frodo had come all the way down here. Ordinarily, no one _would_ be poking about, looking for something to do. Merry thought to himself wryly he'd been spending too much time with Pippin. 

Looking back into the room again, Merry turned just in time to see Frodo begin to lift and lower his hips in counter-rhythm to his strokes. Strokes that were still maddeningly hidden by the front flap of Frodo's breeches. The little voice was getting louder (and so was Frodo), but Merry was afraid that if he moved now, Frodo would somehow hear him and stop what he was doing. 

The little voice inside Merry's head didn't stand a chance against such a new discovery, and the thought of missing anything hushed it once and for all. Merry was determined to stay until the very end. 

Wet mouth parted and moaning freely now, Frodo moved his fist with an increasing tempo over his taut flesh. Merry could only stare, watching the graceful way Frodo’s body seemed to almost dance, each stroke and thrust a sensual gesticulation against the sun soaked sheets. Frodo's breath was coming in short pants, and he arched back with a lusty cry, only to fall back into rhythm a moment later, hand and hips working needfully. Merry's own body was flushed, hot with unaccustomed desire, and he unconsciously copied the motion of his cousin's body, his own hips rubbing up against the doorway in small movements. 

Merry found himself leaning forward boldly, his eyes wide and staring, silently urging Frodo’s body to reach its release. Frodo shuddered then, groaning deeply and baring his small white teeth as his chin tipped back to the ceiling. His whole body bowed off the bed, and Frodo peaked with a lusty cry. 

Merry cried out as well, unable to stop himself. 

Gasping in surprise, Merry slapped his hand over his mouth and threw himself up against the wall of the hallway, not daring to breathe. His whole face felt as if it were on fire, and his body was trembling so badly he feared his knees would knock together. 

It felt like forever before Merry could hear anything past the roaring in his ears. Inside the bedroom, Frodo lay still, and his breathing was deep and even. Holding his own breath, Merry tiptoed away from the open doorway. 

Once he was several yards down the hall, Merry broke out into a run, all of the way to his own room. He made sure to bolt the door before throwing himself onto his bed, and his breeches were unbuttoned before his body had even touched the sheets.

~*~*~

Later that evening, Frodo and Merry cleared off the supper dishes from the table, bringing them into the kitchen together. Neither of them spoke, but the silence between them was comfortable.

For Merry's part, he had moved past whatever embarrassment he might have still been feeling over witnessing Frodo's private moment earlier that afternoon, and had gone on to thinking of it warmheartedly. Well, it made him warm when he thought about it, at any rate.

"I'm sorry I disappeared this afternoon," Frodo's words scattered Merry's thoughts, and he had to hold the stack of dessert plates in his hands a bit tighter so they wouldn't rattle. 

"Oh, well. That's all right. I, uh, was able to amuse myself." Merry's cheeks flushed hotly at his own words, and he took his time putting the dishes in the sink, lest Frodo see. But Frodo was right behind him, and he reached around his cousin to place the wine goblets he had been carrying into the sink as well, effectively pinning Merry in place.

Very slowly, Merry turned, looking up into Frodo's blue-eyed smile nervously. He could see that Frodo was amused, and the realization that Frodo must know Merry had been spying... 

Color flushed all of the way up to the tips of Merry's ears, and his gaze dropped away.

Frodo tsked his tongue softly then, and he raised Merry's head once more with a finger curled under his chin. He gave the young Brandybuck a kiss on the cheek, and Merry was surprised to see that Frodo's own cheeks were a bit rosy.

"Stay right there; I've something for you." Merry did as he was told, and it wasn't long until Frodo returned (from his study, Merry guessed), carrying a book in his hand.

"Now, I know your mum said not to bring any books home with you, but I think she won't mind this one so much." Frodo handed the book over, and Merry was surprised to see it was the same one Frodo had been reading in Bilbo's room. 

A quick flip through the pages proved it to be a storybook of some kind. Merry looked to Frodo in confusion, but his cousin only shook his head, motioning Merry to look more closely. Merry did just that, and after a moment his eyes widened in understanding.

"These stories are..." Merry trailed off, not quite sure what would be the appropriate word.

Frodo circled an arm around Merry's shoulders, and he led the two of them from the kitchen. "The type of stories a young gentlehobbit like yourself might indulge in when he has a few moments of peace and quiet to himself."

Merry realized his face must still have worn a mask of surprise, because Frodo chuckled good-naturedly and patted Merry's cheek with his free hand. "Certainly not of age, Merry, but you're no longer a scampering toddler either. It's time you learn that the life of a hobbit is not all food and pipe weed and song."

Merry nodded dumbly, his hands itching to open the pages once more. He was quite sure he had caught a glimpse of a drawing or two inside, and he was suddenly desperate to study each page in-depth. There were surely no books like this in the library at home. 

Well, none that he was aware of. Merry wondered idly if his parent's library in their private chambers might contain a book or three like this. He grinned at the thought.

"Thank you, cousin. This is... quite unexpected. But most appreciated, certainly." Frodo's smile widened, and he kissed Merry again, an affectionate kiss on the center of his forehead.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I am ready for my bed. It's been a most tiring day." Merry caught a twinkle of mischief in Frodo's eye, but he wasn't quite sure what it meant. Wasn't quite sure, but Merry harbored a guess, and a smile pulled at Merry's mouth, wide and bright.

"Yes, I think I'll be off to my own bed. Perhaps read a bit to relax myself." Merry couldn't hold back a giggle at his own words, but Frodo only gave Merry a smile and then a wink, which made Merry laugh again.

"Good night, Merry," Frodo called out from over his shoulder. "Pleasant dreams..."

Heading in the direction of his own room with the book clutched to his chest, Merry was sure his dreams would be most pleasant indeed. That is, if he ever got to sleep.

~fin~


End file.
